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Torn by the ***** of thorns
Surrounding my garden bed
I sleep here, and silently mourn
My soul that has been dead

I weep into my dirtied hands
Stained by the blood of my own heart
I know that no one will truly understand
The pain of which I wish to part

My tears are black just like my soul
They smear across my face
Inside I knew I'd never been whole
Used words and meaningless things in its place

This emptiness inside, will there ever be a cure?
I used to sit up at night and wonder
There was no way I could ever be sure
In all my ignorance I'd blundered

Because beyond the pain and the tears
I looked right past your face
You where standing there defeating my fears
And it was you who would fill that place

I owe my heart to you
My angle
I owe my life to you too
Because in the end it was your love that filled
My empty soul in the end
As the sun is setting, coloring the sky,
as the waves are crashing, as the tides rise high,
as the wind is blowing through the grass and trees,
and all the worlds creations seem to be at ease,
the sound of my guitar and my feet on the sand,
breaking through the music of nature and its land,
seconds turn to hours as our notes combine,
natures wind and waves together go with mine.
1 Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
2 Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
3 Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
4 Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd a way!

5 Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
6 List while I woo thee with soft melody;
7 Gone are the cares of life's busy throng, --
8 Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
9 Beautiful dreamer awake unto me!

10 Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea
11 Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie;
12 Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
13 Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.

14 Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
15 E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
16 Then will all clouds of sorrow depart, --
17 Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
18 Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
this moment
her eyes lay on me like two whispers of longing
and her touch, light and tentative
speaks to me of her fear
i would tumble the walls of the city
i would shake the foundations of the world
to ease her mind
but i cannot even speak to her
its a dream/memory
and she has been gone all these long years
Continuing to live - that is, repeat
A habit formed to get necessaries -
Is nearly always losing, or going without.
It varies.

This loss of interest, hair, and enterprise -
Ah, if the game were poker, yes,
You might discard them, draw a full house!
But it's chess.

And once you have walked the length of your mind, what
You command is clear as a lading-list.
Anything else must not, for you, be thought
To exist.

And what's the profit? Only that, in time,
We half-identify the blind impress
All our behavings bear, may trace it home.
But to confess,

On that green evening when our death begins,
Just what it was, is hardly satisfying,
Since it applied only to one man once,
And that one dying.
I don't need someone
who understands me,
I need someone
who understands
that I am content in my understanding
that they may not always
understand.

Empathy found me at a very young age.


Am I making sense?
Do you understand?
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